When Twilight received an invitation for a “special meeting” with Celestia, she had expected some paperwork, some tea and biscuits, maybe a passionate cuddling session if all went well. Instead, she found herself standing before the throne, thoroughly uncuddled, with the horrendous odor of lemon-scented cologne in her nose. She never thought that standing next to Prince Blueblood could be a form of torture.

“And that’s the jist of it,” Celestia said. “Luna and I have been running ourselves ragged ruling over all twenty-four hours in the day. So from this moment on, Twilight, you are the Princess of Dusk, and Blueblood, you are the Prince of Dawn. Congratulations!”

Next to her, Prince Blueblood snorted. “I don’t see why I should have to share any part of the day with her.”

“I agree,” Twilight said. “I appreciate the thought, but do we have to work together? Can’t Blueblood have both dawn and dusk?”

Celestia nodded. “It’s a hard job, so he’ll need the help. And besides, Twilight, you’re always saying you want more responsibility. And Blueblood, you need to fulfill your court-mandated community service hours.”

“I believe my existence is service enough,” Blueblood said, turning up his nose. “Nevertheless, I will take the position with pride. I shall be the greatest monarch the dawn has ever seen! Ponies shall look on my works and despair!”

Twilight forced herself to smile. “What he said.”

The two new rulers trotted out of the throne room. Once they rounded a corner, Twilight sighed.

“Listen,” she said. “I don’t know how this ‘Princess of Dusk’ thing works, but if it’s what Celestia wants, then I’ll go along with it. I know we’re not good friends. But can we agree to make nice?”

"Of course, my dear Twilight,” Blueblood said, bowing his head. “For the good of my country, we'll put our differences aside. No matter how frumpy I find your manecut.”

Twilight glowered. “Right.”

---

The next morning, Twilight trotted into her kitchen and found a steaming bowl of porridge waiting at the table. Marveling at how wonderful her favorite little chef/assistant/tea warmer could be, she eagerly took her seat at the table.

Twilight inhaled the scent of her meal—and wrinkled her nose when she picked up a hint of lemon. Professionalism be damned, she wanted to keep Blueblood as far out of her mind as possible.

Then again, it is dawn right about now, she thought, shoveling the sweet mush into her mouth. Maybe his first decree was to make all of Equestria smell just like him...

She stopped as a strong metallic taste washed over her tongue. Swallowing what food she had left in her mouth, Twilight took a moment to ponder the familiar taste; she thought back to her years as an expert scientist. She remembered constantly searching for new materials to work with, conducting vigorous, vigorous experiments on any chemical she could find.

“Spike,” she called, “why did you put cyanide in my porridge?”

“Aha!” Blueblood cried, jumping out from under the sink. “You've fallen into my trap!”

“What trap?” Twilight asked. “Did you seriously try to poison me?”

“Try? I’ve succeeded!” Blueblood said. “In mere moments, your breathing will cease, leaving moi as the ruler of both dawn and dusk! No longer will I have to share my throne—soon, eternal power shall be mine!”

The monarchs stared at one another.

Blueblood’s grin stayed static. “You may begin dying now, you know.”

“Blueblood, I’m immortal.”

“Yes, I know you’re immoral. I’ve seen your mane."

Another moment of silence.

Twilight threw Blueblood out the window.

---

“I’m sorry about this,” said Celestia, pouring tea for Twilight. “I really didn’t expect this sort of thing out of Blueblood. I always saw him as an arsenic kind of pony.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Twilight said. “Sometimes you just want some porridge, and you end up surviving an assassination attempt. It happens.”

“In any case, I’ve handled it. Now Blueblood knows the cost of treason.” Celestia looked into the night sky. “He’s been sent to the moon.”

Twilight gasped.

“Wait, I misspoke,” Celestia said. “His room. He’s been sent to his room.”

“Oh.”

“But fear not! I’ve already chosen his replacement,” Celestia said. She pointed to the doorway. “Behold!”

The doors to Celestia’s chambers swung wide open, letting in a blast of light. Twilight squinted to make out the tiny silhouette standing in the threshold.

Princess Flurry Heart waddled inside, a rattle in one hoof and a bottle of cyanide in the other.